


cinnamon stars

by glory_of_bygone_days



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Baking, Christmas Cookies, Christmas Fluff, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Nagamas 2019, also this isn't set at a specific time so feel free to decide for yourself, i guess?, mercedes and claude sort-of talk and officially become friends: the short fic, references to german christmas cookies, specifically past 4 in the morning and i pulled an all-nighter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:08:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22246858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glory_of_bygone_days/pseuds/glory_of_bygone_days
Summary: Like softly falling snow, colourful decorations and the laughter of excited children as they envision their presents, the fragrance of Christmas cookies was an integral part of the season. Perhaps most of all, even, because it allowed for bonding in the cozy atmosphere native to the season like nothing else.
Relationships: Mercedes von Martritz & Claude von Riegan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	cinnamon stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Edelgoth](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Edelgoth).



> HEY FRIEND im sorry this took so massively long! somehow, those two didnt want to cooperate at all, but all's well that ends well, i suppose. i dont have much confidence in my portrayal of claude especially, but apparently hes not completely ooc so i count that as a win.
> 
> anyhow, i hope you will enjoy this little fic! happy 2020 once again!
> 
> (a big thanks to airlock for doing me the honour of looking through my garbled mess once again and providing funny comments on top of, well, the usual betaing. also sol thanks to whom i found the perfect writing music for this)

Like softly falling snow, colourful decorations and the laughter of excited children as they envision their presents, the fragrance of Christmas cookies was an integral part of the season. Perhaps most of all, even, because it allowed for bonding in the cozy atmosphere native to the season like nothing else.

To Mercedes, it had always been the part she looked forward to the most. As such, it was hardly a surprise that, as soon as the days became shorter and the first candle of the Advent was lit, she started spending most of her free time in the kitchen.

That day, chores dragged on longer than usual, so despite the late hour, the end of her daily baking has yet to come in sight. She’s focused enough to not feel tired, though, and the ovens keep the room at a comfortable temperature. It feels way more inviting than the cold corridors that lie between there and her room, for sure.

Perhaps it’s her deep concentration, perhaps it’s the late hour at which surely everyone else is asleep, but Mercedes doesn’t notice that anyone has entered until one of the cookies cooling down next to her is picked up. Thankfully, _their_ reflexes work much faster. Fast enough to catch the batch of dough she drops in surprise, at least.

“You know, if you don’t want me to steal one of your cookies, you should just tell me. Not throw away the whole dough. Or are you so tired you can’t hold it up anymore?”

Claude puts it back on the counter with ease, and Mercedes can’t help but sigh in relief at the familiar face. Is it because he picked it up just in time? Or because he isn’t some ill-intentioned stranger? She isn’t sure. Both, maybe.

“Well, I see you’re in as good of a shape as ever. Shouldn’t you be asleep at this hour, though? You’ve been staying up late all week and your body won’t be able to compensate for your lack of rest forever.”

Claude chuckles as he chews on the looted cookie. He seems to be deep in thought as he does. Does it remind him of something? Something in the past, something present? A memory? A feeling? Mercedes is sure he would only give her a half-baked answer if she asked now, but she hopes for a time when he might answer properly. Wants to get to know him better, beyond the fragments she has seen so far. However, he doesn’t even seem like he would share his reasons for still being up tonight.

“Do you always bake by yourself? I know you like to, but maybe making enough for a whole army is a bit much, don’t you think?”

The question comes so out of the blue, it takes a few seconds for Mercedes to properly process it. It really _must_ be quite late already, with how completely baking commands her focus at the moment.

After a moment of thought, she shakes her head.

“I really don’t mind! As you said, I enjoy it, and if I can help with putting a smile on everyone’s face despite the bleak weather, it’s more than worth it for me.”

She’s dodging the first part of his question, kind of, and she knows it. What a hypocrite, wanting full and honest answers while not being willing to give them herself. 

Or is she? In the end, he probably knows already, anyway. And she’s aware of it no matter what, but there’s a difference between knowing and _saying_ what’s on her mind every time she smells the familiar aroma of cinnamon, vanilla sugar and anise.

A deep breath. A deep breath to order her thoughts. Keep them from spilling over because she has no interest in crying for a past she can’t and won’t return to.

“We used to bake together. My mother, my brother and I.” She absentmindedly brushes over the last cookie she had formed, evening out its crescent shape. “But now, well… there’s only me here.”

Next to her, Claude inhales sharply and doesn’t reply immediately, as if he’s unsure of what to say. The relaxed atmosphere is immediately gone, too, and Mercedes wonders for a second if what she said was wrong. Said at the wrong time.

“...Do you want me to help? I know I’m not _family_ and it’s not like I could replace that, but…”

She only looks at him from her peripheral vision, too surprised to properly shift to try and read him. He doesn’t make any effort to meet her eyes either, and yet… She _knows_ what he’s offering isn’t just some assistance with baking to make her feel better and get her to sleep, doesn’t she?

With a quiet chuckle, she faces him, properly this time. He looks back at her, too, and the tense air shatters as if it never existed in the first place.

“I’d be very grateful if you could help me decorate the remaining gingerbreadmen! I misjudged the time I’d need for the rest of the cookies, so most of them are still left plain. You can copy the ones I already finished or think of your own design, I don’t mind.”

With a smile, Mercedes hands him the frosting as she directs him to the part of the long counter where countless gingerbreadmen were left to cool down and now lead a sorry, faceless non-life. 

He starts working without further comment and she’s about to return to her own work when she turns around again, this time looking directly at him.

“Also, I think that being able to bake with friends is just as rewarding as doing so with family.”

“Friends, huh?”

Claude lifts his hand from the gingerbreadman he was decorating and grimaces a little at the result. Next to Mercedes’ widely smiling ones, the smile in his one looks… shaky. Hesitant. And yet, it’s just as warm and bright.

“...Yes, I think that’s got a nice ring to it.”


End file.
